


Sunflowers in the Rain

by Scullys_laughter



Category: The X-Files
Genre: An X-File Case, Case Fic, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Forests, Hotels, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, agent in peril, bit of angst, one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27761005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scullys_laughter/pseuds/Scullys_laughter
Summary: As Mulder and Scully’s longing for each other is getting more and more unbearable a case file and Scully’s dreams take them to an isolated hotel in the mountains. Amid a missing persons’ investigation, a family mystery resurfaces, leading to discoveries, adventures, and revelations.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57
Collections: X-Files Case File Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suilven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suilven/gifts).



> For Andrea (Suilven). I had such an amazing time writing this! You’ve picked some of my favorite tropes so naturally I was super exited to mash them all in there! I’m sorry for the delay and hope you enjoy this!

_She feels her hair fluttering around her face. Her bare feet are slightly tickled by the grass every time the swing makes the descent. A few more minutes and she will go inside. She doesn’t want to._

__

_On the horizon vast, deep green of the forest is trying to conquer the mountain tops, but cannot move over the icy capes. Misty morning air fills her lungs and tastes like spring. Rusty colored bricks fall into her preliminary vision every time she swings back. Maybe they’ll forget about her and she can stay outside all day? The swing is starting to slow. She tries harder to push back and forth but it’s like she is no stronger than the breeze. The swing stops. She doesn’t want to go inside. ___

____

__

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_She takes care not to step on any wildflowers while walking up to the house. They are white and pretty and she could get her mom to make some flower crowns together if only she had been here. Maybe she could make one now by herself, that would be a pretty good excuse for not going inside._

____

__

____

_She grabs a flower but the stem doesn’t give. She tugs and tugs but it won’t come out. She has to go inside._

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__

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_The vines slide up in between the brown bricks like thin snakes, their thorns are venomous fangs. The windows stare at her, unblinking. The cracked white porch is smiling toothlessly. The house wants to swallow her up. She has to go inside._

____

__

____

Scully woke up, her pyjamas sweaty. She couldn't move a finger.

____

***

____

The morning sunlight was pouring in thick beams through the tiny basement window bathing the flecks of dust in the air.

____

Scully set a styrofoam cup on Mulder’s desk and took a sip of her own coffee. The kid from the shop downstairs went too heavy on cream again, it was nice though, in an indulgent kind of way. Melissa liked lots of cream just like that.

____

Mulder was nowhere to be seen, although the coat on one of the hangers indicated his early arrival. She went to stack the filed reports they’d been catching up on over the weekend. It’s been nice like that lately, he’d come over with the files and take out and they stayed up late working and bickering over a Twilight Zone episode. A cooperative nap even took place a couple of weeks ago, all cuddles and beer drowsiness. Scully sighed and let herself revel in the memory of warmth and safety of his embrace. The crook of his neck was the best thing to rest her head upon and she had a slight suspicion the bastard knew that, beckoning her with his soft shirts, good aftershave, and warm skin. She woke up that night with the world gently spinning only to realize he was carrying her to the bed. She tried not to smile feigning sleep and by the time he tucked her covers and left she was out cold again.

____

The familiar sound of footsteps in the hall prompted her to hide the dreamy expression in the coffee cup just as Mulder stepped in carrying a massive projector in his arms.

____

“Good morning, Scully. Ready for a taste of this week’s entertainment?” He cautiously pushed her staked files to the side, put the projector down, and went for the coffee she brought him. “Thank you.”

____

“What time did you even get here? It’s barely 8.”

____

“You know me, the bureau’s model employee.” Mulder punctuated the sentence with a yawn.

____

Scully hoped he’d slept at all. Maybe she’s not the only one who needs those cooperative naps after all. She went to plug in the projector while he struggled to unroll the whiteboard. It was crooked and they kept forgetting to do something about it. Mulder sighed and relented.

____

While he dealt with the slides, Scully mused some more over their recent dynamics. Diana’s death seemed to soften both their edges, yet the tension was still present. Mulder seemed to put more effort to “entice” her in the cases, not that she needed any enticing to do her work. However, that meant he substantiated the cases with more care and wasn’t as quick to ditch her and run off on a wild goose chase at the first sign of her incredulity. And if the slide show was any indication, this case was pretty exciting to him, so she made herself comfy in her chair, took a sip of her coffee, and raised her brows at Mulder in an “I’m all ears” look.

____

“Maplecrest, a picturesque little town in the north of Georgia. One thousand eight hundred eleven people.” The screen showed a spread of neat buildings bunched up in a sea of green, yellow and red trees, surrounded by mountains. “Located far enough from Atlanta to feel secluded and breathtaking nature, prospering community and convenient infrastructure attracts many families and-”

____

“Mulder, are you reading from a real estate listing?”

____

“Why, Agent Scully, we all have to think about retirement plans from time to time. And these do have pretty coherent info on the schools, shopping, and medical facilities there. There are even carpentry classes!”

____

“Sure. Go on, please.”

____

“Three random disappearances in the past month. All women, all in their early thirties. Their bodies haven’t been recovered as of yet, but the local deputy I’ve been talking to suspects serial kidnappings or murders.” The slideshow progressed to a series of images of young women. “Gloria Ortiz, a high school principal. Well-loved by students and peers, active in the community, family members stated no reason or inclination to leave town. Mary Pleshko, a freelance photographer. And Eleanor Briggs, a successful real estate manager. It was her brochure I’ve been reading from. All people close to them say they had no intention or reasons to leave. And by all accounts doing well in their respective careers.”

____

“I get it, Mulder, they have no reason to leave, since they have nice lives there. But did you see the forest in the first picture? The one that doesn’t seem to end? And the mountains? And, well, even if the prospect of serial murders or kidnappings warrants an investigation, how is this an X-file?” She put her cup on the table, grinning. “Any saucer sightings you’re holding on to? Men in black? Lost time? Radiation burns, temperature, light or sound anomalies, toxic blood, black oil, any other trace evidence?”

____

“Well look, who is feeling playful today.” Mulder’s expression was beyond delighted. He changed the slide to an image of a figure sprawled on gold and brown leaves. “Here you go. During the search instead of finding the lost women police recovered two different bodies. Interestingly enough they don’t match the missing girls’ dental records and haven’t been identified so far, including records of tourists seemed to never have visited the town previously.” Another flick of changing the slide. “Both Jane Does were found in the vicinity of the home of one Jodie Moore who is rumored to be…What is it, Scully?”

____

She could barely breathe over the sudden wave of fear, washing over, hitting her everywhere at once. Mulder at her side in an instant and she grabbed for his hand in panic. “What’s wrong?”

____

“No, no…” She could not explain where it came from. Momentarily it was gone, leaving a weak tremble of exhaustion behind. She closed her eyes and cleared her throat, steadying herself. “This house, Mulder. I think I’ve been dreaming of it.”

____

He frowned and squeezed her hand harder.

____

“Or maybe it’s just similar.” She swallowed, lowered her head, and willed herself to get a grip. “It was just…a very strong Déjà vu, maybe. I’m fine, Mulder. It’s okay.” She let go of him and patted his arm gently.

____

Mulder frowned deeper, but let go. He cleared his throat.

____

“So, the house. It’s a former hotel, pretty secluded from the rest of the city on the mountainside. Jodie Moore, the owner, is the only one currently residing there and she claimed to be abducted several times, which did not earn her any popularity in the town. She apparently had suffered from severe PTSD and closed down most of the hotel in favor of more calm private existence.”

____

Scully tried to compare the building on the picture with the one in her mind, but it was of little consequence. She could barely remember the dream, and, thinking about it, her brain could easily be feigning non-existing similarities, trying to conjure a clearer picture in her head. Still, the undeniable trace of terror remained, and somehow a part of her was sure that there was something off about the hotel.

____

“Do you think there are abductions happening? It’s still a lot more plausible that all of these are hiking accidents. The terrain is sure challenging in the mountains, the forest is easy to get lost in. They probably get a few of lost hikers a year.”

____

“Well, five of those – three missing and two bodies – in a month seems a little far-fetched to me. Then there’s an absence of a cause of death on the two of Jane Does.” He struggled to continue. “Women found in the middle of nowhere with no cause of death is quite up the X-files alley, I mean.”

____

“You mean like I was found. When they found me after my abduction.” Her tone turned cool.

____

“Maybe. Then the hotel, you recognized it. Could it be where you were held? Maybe you’re remembering something?”

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“I’m not-” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’m not sure I’d even want to remember if I could.”

____

He approached her and took her hand in his again. Tentatively rubbed his thumb on the back of her palm. “I know, Scully. I know. We don’t have to go.” He looked like he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away, but it was hers to nurture from, to fight and overcome. It made her who she was in a sense, but she will not be reduced to it.

____

“You know we do. One step forward, two steps back.” Scully smiled bitterly and closed the hug, resting her temple on his chest.

____

***

____

It wasn’t supposed to rain, according to the weather channel. Mulder cringed in disgust as the tiny cold water blades bit his face. He turned to grab the pizza box from the car and threw a look to Scully in the front seat, who was taking her time putting the file folders into her briefcase, seemingly reluctant to leave the car. He couldn’t blame her; it was so much warmer there. There was a vending machine near the parking lot though and Mulder spied some seed bags there earlier.

____

He patted his pockets for the wallet as Scully came up to him.

____

“My room or yours?” They had to go over the witness and medical reports the deputy gave them, she reminded him. The water drops shined and slid prettily off her hair. One hit her nose and she flinched.

____

“Witness and medical reports? Won’t fool me, I know you only got eyes for this bad boy” he balanced the pizza box in one hand and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

____

“Oh, I do like them cheesy sometimes. Your room then.” She took the box from him and headed towards the building, her shoes leaving small prints in the thin layer of mud on the parking lot.

____

“Sure, partner.” God, who even flirts like that? They needed help. And his room was going to smell like pizza.

____

He stopped to get the seeds and a couple of sodas from the machine, then grabbed a few cereal and dried fruit bars for Scully. He was planning to go talk with Jodie Moore the next day and the hike might turn out to be lengthy in this weather. He didn’t want them to separate during the case considering his abduction theory, but he’d have to prepare his arguments to lure her away from the morgue for a day. He went over his reasoning: fresh air, scenery, and snacks might just do the job. And being partners with the obligation to provide each other back up yada yada yada. He’d better not try and drop that one on her though.

____

When he entered her room Scully was nowhere to be seen, but the bathroom light was on and he heard the water running. He dumped his loot onto the small table next to the pizza, spotted her trench coat bunched up on the floor under the hanger, and went to pick it up. It was soft but a bit scratchy against his hands at the same time, a bit moist from the rain. He brought the collar closer to his face and breathed in, not thinking about what he was doing. It smelled earthy and rainy and so so much of the mix of Scully scents; her floral perfume with a hint of spice, her shampoo, the coffee consumed over the car ride, and, though maybe he was imagining it, a trace of gunpowder. He hanged it back on the rack followed by his own when Scully emerged from the bathroom.

____

“Go wash your hands, Mulder, I’ll unpack the dinner. Did you get extra mushrooms on there?”

____

“Yes, ma'am. Leave some for me, would ya?” The picture of Scully annihilating the giant pizza just to spite him warmed his heart, but after the flight and the long drowsy car ride he was ready to fight for some calories.

____

She was on the bed finishing a slice when he came out of the bathroom. There was a smudge of tomato sauce on her cheek and he didn’t know if he was a hungry or a horny bastard for wanting to lick it off her. Maybe add some sauce on the soft underside of her breast, a peck on her tight little nipple, yep, horny dickhead it is. He grabbed a slice for himself and opened a witness statement.

____

“It says in her colleague’s statement that one of the latest Eleanor Briggs’ projects was the Moore residence, the former hotel that you recognized from the picture. However, no contract of any kind was signed with Jodie Moore by the real estate company. Apparently, she was reluctant to sell it.”

____

“So you think it used to be a temporary place where they kept abductees? Has the house search been conducted? And why disregard Jodie Moore herself as a possible culprit?”

____

“She is under suspicion, actually, but they have nothing substantial on her. The Moore house is the closest building to where Jane Does’ bodies have been recovered, within a mile’s distance each. It’s not enough to warrant the house search, of course. And even though Jodie Moore was supposedly in contact with Eleanor Briggs, the missing realtor, in a small town like this most people are somehow familiar with each other.”

____

“I see that the recovered bodies have been cremated. Since no ID has been made in over 72 hours they had to eliminate them in accordance to the state guidelines.” Scully frowned.

____

“No playtime for you this time, huh?”

____

“You mean I won’t have to spend a day in an autopsy bay? Bah-waah.”

____

Mulder rubbed her shoulder in mock sympathy. She swatted at his arm.

____

“I don’t see why not accompany you to the Jodie Moore’s residence tomorrow morning. My appointment with the medical examiner is at 3, and we can go talk to the local detectives after that.” It appeared Scully was more than happy to go through this one while joined at the hip.

____

Could it be she shared his anxiety about the abductions? Was she scared for her life? Mulder felt his stomach turn a bit. He brushed her hand.

____

“I promise I reviewed my Indian guide handbook. This trip to the forest has to be a success.”

____

____

***

____

The hike indeed was turning out to be one of their more enjoyable rendezvous with Mother Nature. Even with the rain from yesterday making the ground slippery and opulent flora wet – the colors were stunning. Scully walked a few feet ahead, bravely conquering the mountain trail. She was wearing her hideous blue cyan and pink jacket, which he thought she already parted her ways with since he hadn’t seen it in many years. It made her look even more huggable, he dared to think. He couldn’t help but wonder how nice it would be to cuddle up in front of a fire together. She seemed cheerful and playful that morning, not caring much about her hiking jacket getting dirt stains, and giggling delightfully when he failed to dodge a springy branch getting a face full of wet leaves in the process. That event instigated a debate on whether she gave him heads up on branches in time and if they were on the right path (Mulder had started to regret volunteering to read the map right about the time they found themselves on the thinner trial). There wasn’t any animosity in the air though.

____

“Well at least this way we might be a help to the search party. You know, stumble upon a research facility, an abductee here and there.”

____

“You do seem to gravitate towards such things a lot during a case. You’re welcome to venture there alone however; I happen to quite enjoy the spectacular outdoors here.”

____

Mulder spotted a leaf of a particular shade of copper on the ground and lifted it to make a comparison to Scully’s hair. It was a close match but not perfect. He thanked higher powers he wasn’t color blind or anything. Sense of color, after all was imperative for appreciating Scully’s hair, autumn-scapes and being employed as an FBI agent.

____

Scully spotted him waving decomposing biomaterial near her head and huffed.

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“You know Mulder, even though you were prophesied to pass from autoerotic asphyxiation it still can be coupled with exposure in a wet cold forest up in the Georgian mountains.”

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“As long as you get a hand in it.” This earned him another fast-flying branch, but he caught it in time.

____

***

____

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What they thought to be wind turned into a roar of water as they came near a waterfall. It wasn’t big, but babbling streams coupled with the whole sweeping sea of colors before them was quite a breath-taking sight. They sat on a log to take it all in, a long-needed break. Scully imagined letting the clear current rush through her fingers, clutched her already freezing hands, and leaned into Mulder’s side. He took her hands in his, warming them. It never ceased to amaze them both how their hand seemed to fit together so well, not that they’d remark on it out loud.

____

It was nice that they did more things like that lately. Scully thought it’d be wonderful to lift her head, look him in the eyes and feel his lips on hers. The thought sent a shiver through her and sent her heart racing. It all seemed so easy and yet after their previous accidents she was afraid a tree might fall on their heads. Or another ex might make an appearance. Wouldn’t it be fun if her high school boyfriend Marcus started sourcing them with UFO sightings and locations of black oil deposits?

____

She felt Mulder’s lips on the crown of her head, breath warm and steady. It is enough, she thought, not quite fooling herself.

____

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drank some water and went on.

____


	2. Chapter 2

There was a swing in front of the building on the lawn, which was filled with overgrowth.

The high grass was almost obscuring the swing’s seat that was swaying back and forth gently with the wind.

“I’ll give you a cereal bar, if you push me.”

Mulder looked at Scully beside him, who was trying her best to conceal her panic face with a smirk. Flashbacks from the last haunted house they visited were fresh and disturbing. Her cheeks were rosy from the hike, they were both breathing a bit heavily and he knew his eyes reflected the excited gleam hers were showing.

The building looked nothing like the picture from the real estate pamphlet, presenting a rather bleak image of old unkempt mansion which might have been abandoned some thirty or a hundred years ago. The moss was covering about two-thirds of the walls, the dead vines mixed in with the thriving plants climbing up the surfaces here and there. Some windows on the second floor were missing.

“Well, how’s that for a retirement home, huh, Scully? The place just screams spooky.”

Scully ventured forth leaving him to come up with more thoughtful commentary, but he caught a small smile before she passed him.

The sound of creaking wood boards replaced the crispy leaf crunch. Scully pushed the ring bell button to no avail. She knocked. Twice more. After a minute or so they heard footsteps and she quit mulling over what colorful metaphors she was going to use to describe this incredibly useful hour hike uphill.

A gnarled old lady draped in an indefinite number of knitted dark green layers opened the door. Her mouth somewhat slowly formed a smile gleaming with silver.

“Good morning, we are agents Scully and Mulder with the FBI.” They flapped their badges in almost perfect synchronization. “We’re looking for Jodie Moore.”

The smile on the lady’s face grew ever so slightly as she opened the door gesturing for them to come in.

“You are looking at her. We can have tea together.” She shuffled towards the kitchen, the floors cricking under her feet almost musically.

The inside of the house was unexpectedly homey, the halls large, smells of herbs, old wood and aged textile mixing together, adding up to some kind of nostalgic dreary atmosphere.

Scully wasn’t really keen on consuming anything offered with potential suspects but as she watched the woman humming and fussing over the teapot she decided against stopping her. They could just not drink it or pretend to drink, after all, it wouldn’t hurt to set up some level of friendliness.

The interior of the first floor was cluttered with wooden animal figurines of various shapes and sizes, all kinds of garden appliances, baskets, and plants; some decorative, some drying up on the wall tied into little bundles. It didn’t feel particularly messy or unclean and Scully felt a sense of calm domesticity wash over her.

Mulder went to view a set of Russian nesting dolls on the mantle. He tried to open up the smallest one, but it appeared the seam on it was sealed. It toppled to the side when he tried to put it back. He then proceeded to knock over a couple more, trying to set the doll upright.

They both winced, but their hostess either ignored the wooden racket or couldn’t hear it. Scully made a note to raise her voice volume just in case.

“Ms. Moore, we know the police have already talked to you, but can you, once again, tell us of your relationship to the missing women? Namely, Eleanor Briggs?”

“Such a good girl. Very nice. Caring type, but she seemed out of place here.” Jodie placed the cups before Mulder and Scully, sat down on a squeaky chair before them., and took a loud sip from the cup. Scully found herself mirroring her, the hot liquid rich with fresh flavor of rooibos and flowers.

“Out of place in the town? Did she seem unhappy to live here? Or, in this house, as we understand, you hired her to put it up for sale?” Mulder asked nonchalantly.

“It’s great luck to belong here, such a wonderful, peaceful place. She knew it, of course, but what can you do if it doesn’t want you?”

“Someone had a problem with her being here?”

“You don’t understand, boy. You people all quarrel so much, no need to bring it all here. Good peaceful places have no need for that.” She closed her eyes and smiled broadly.

Mulder cleared his throat and Scully raised an eyebrow while looking down at the cup.

“Do you have any idea of what might have happened to Eleanor?”

Jodie sighed but her eyes stayed closed. “I’m sure she is happy.” The old woman smacked her lips a couple of times.” Such a cheerful girl.”

They exchanged glances.

“What about the other two disappearances?”

The answer back was the soft sound of uneven but steady breathing of an old sleeping person.

Mulder put his cup back on the table. “Don’t think she minds it if we have a look around at least?”

Scully sighed, still not liking the idea that they might have walked all the way here for nothing. The mountain hike was pleasant though.

“We’ll say we were looking for the bathroom”

***

_She is looking out the window, miserably. She had to climb a pile of books to be able to see past the windowsill. It’s not that bad or scary inside, but she always has a feeling that she won’t be allowed to go one time._

_She heard her mom and great auntie arguing the other day, auntie saying that they are not allowed to leave because great-granny was getting worse. Mom said they all should go and get granny to the hospital, but they didn’t listen, said that granny won’t leave the house and mom shouldn’t too, that she’d take over when granny’s gone._

_Missy doesn’t know what they mean, but she knows that mom really wants to come back home to dad and Bill. And both great-auntie and granny don’t seem to care about that at all. She even misses her brother a little, at least he played with her when his friends weren’t around. Even if he’s always bragging about how he’s going to go to school soon, though mom told her it’s not for another year._

_She wants a sister so much. Maybe she should ask for one for Christmas._

***

Scully gasped as she felt warm hands cup her face ever so gently. Mulder’s face came into focus in its full panic mode. She couldn’t bring herself to make a joke, as she felt a little dazed.

“Are you okay? What’s happening?” He swiped a tear from under her eye carefully.

“I don’t know…I got this feeling again.” Scully tried to assess her physical condition, but she wasn’t in any pain. She stood near a wooden window clutching the frame, but she wasn’t dizzy.

“Did you see anything out the window?”

“I don’t know how to describe it. I have a feeling that I’ve been here before, but it wasn’t me. It’s like I’m Melissa. And I don’t know how that even could be possible. Maybe she told me about this place when I was little and I forgot…” She took a deep breath and went to sit on an armchair near a bookshelf.

“I’m okay. I think I just need a minute.”

Mulder had to physically squeeze his lips to keep his questions and thoughts from surfacing. Most of all, was it a good idea for them to even be here if it’s triggering such a deep emotional response from her? And is it possible that Scully’s sister is connected to this hotel somehow?

He went to study the books on the shelf. The books looked old and most of the books had Cyrillic writing on them. He took out a thick tome in thick leather-textured cover, carefully opened the first page to understand only that it was printed in 1882. Further examination didn’t uncover any illustrations of occult practices like he’d hoped. Might have been a Tolstoy’s “Anna Karenina” or a study on the benefits of consuming human flesh for all he knew. There was a copy of “The adventures of Tom Sawyer” on the bottom shelf dated 1955.

“Have you noticed the Eastern European stuff around the house? The décor, the books. The plants on the walls look like some kind of ritual wreaths. Witchy. And the house is rather deep in the woods. And Ms. Moore did have a slight hint of an accent, hasn’t she?” Mulder wasn’t sure about the last one if he was being honest, but the woman did behave and talk very peculiarly.

“A Slavic Baba Yaga, Mulder? Is that your theory? I wouldn’t mind seeing a former three-story hotel sprouting a couple of chicken feet and running around.”

“Oh, you would. Also Melissa might have scared you with a story like that when you were little, and that’s why it getting to you?”

“It’s not–”

There was a loud thud on the window. They looked at each other, took out their guns, and proceeded down the stairs. Another bang followed. Jodie Moore wasn’t in her armchair, probably got spooked by the sound, Mulder thought.

“Miss Moore? We are downstairs, tell us if you are okay!”

“We are armed, please remain calm.” They spun around the corners of the halls surveying the area.

“She is not here. Maybe she’s throwing stones at the windows?”

Another bang followed. They continued to move out, not finding anyone out on the yard.

“They could easily be gone now, hiding in the forest. We should get out of the open.”

“No desire to go back in there but I suppose you’re–“

He felt a blow to his temple which sent his world tilting dangerously.” He reached for Scully.

“Hail! Go, Mulder, go!”

She all but loaded him up on her shoulders as they moved towards the house, him trying to get his bearings and hunching himself over her, feeling another hit to the back of his neck. A couple of more blows later the made it under the porch.

She forced him down to look at his head and he realized there was a metallic taste in his mouth. Scully’s cold little hand were all over his face light and precise, her eyes wide, face alarmed. He grinned at her hoping to communicate he is more or less sound and ease her worries, but, judging by her terrified expression, his teeth were bloody.

“You got a cut on your head, we need to clean and dress it.”

“Jeez, do you see these? They are almost egg-sized,” Mulder picked up an ice pellet from the porch where it ricocheted.

“Yes! Let’s go, it’s not safe here.”

They got inside and Mulder deposited himself on the couch, trying to get his bearings and waited for the world to stop spinning. It was starting to get him seasick. Not helping the case Scully was pacing around frantically in search of the house owner and the first aid kit.

Not finding either, she relocated him near the kitchen sink and started cleaning the wound with soap and water.

“It doesn’t appear to need stitches. We need to stop the bleeding though. How are you feeling?”

“You know, just like on any other case. It’s a miracle what our heads can handle.”

“Any nausea? Dizziness? Vision distortion?”

“Well, there is kind of two of you, but I might just be dreaming again.”

That earned him a smile, but he supposed it was out of relief that he was in good enough condition to make bad jokes.

She pressed a cloth to his cut and an ice pack near it then took his hand and placed it over the make-shift cover.

“I need to find proper clean bandages. Press hard so it doesn’t start bleeding again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He used his free hand to press hers to his cheek. “Thank you.”

She stroked him ever so slightly before extracting her hand from his grip and leaving him to miss the softness of her palm.

***

The hail was thumping away at the roof, occasionally grazing windows with wheezing thuds, mixing in with the sounds of Scully making a racket in the kitchen and then bathroom cupboards. Mulder then heard her declaring an intention to check upstairs and the receding sound of her footsteps swallowed by the carpet and haze in his head.

All the thumping was arrhythmic and annoying. He felt a big headache hovering just out of sight.

In his peripheral vision, he spotted a woman pounding off a chunk of meat at the kitchen counter, and it wasn’t Jodie Moore. Her hair was smoothed back in a messy bun, brows drawn in concentration.

“Oh hi. We didn’t see you before,” Mulder cleared his throat, trying to hide the shock. They expected Jodie to live alone. Was she a guest, a relative？

The woman didn’t look up from her task, her hands tightening the grip on the pounder, knuckles going white. The was a light hint of raw meat and blood in the air. Mulder felt a stir in his gut.

“Um, my name is Mulder, I’m here with my partner, she was just here…” he trailed off not getting any reaction. He stood up to come closer in hope to get her attention, but opted to maintain a bit of a distance with the aggressive hammering and all.

“We got caught in the hail outside, you wouldn’t mind us waiting it out here?”

“There’s always hail.” The woman smiled, her cold stare piecing Mulder’s. He suddenly recognized the face of Eleanor Briggs.

He realized he couldn’t move a muscle, apart from his eyes. How did she get there, he wanted to ask. Eleanor’s hand didn’t stop hammering at the chunk of bloody flesh on the board even while she stared at him. He felt the urge to draw his gun but couldn’t.

The pounding got louder and louder as the blood sputters covered the woman’s clothes and face.

He then spotted what very much looked like a skinned human hand in a pot next to her on the counter. The room went black.

***

He fought the darkness to reach something. The sound that was more of a feeling called to him and he needed to reach it, not that he minded the darkness that much, but ever since he heard the sound, he knew he needed to find the source. It sounded like nothing could ever sound and also like everything, and, even though darkness was familiar and comforting, he pushed at it with heavy limbs, walking through it slowly, like one would walk on the bottom of the sea.

He then saw a light which was more of a feeling as well, warm, bright and safe.

“Mulder! Mulder, wake up!”

The light blinded him briefly. He blinked a few times. Scully’s hand was in a very suitable position to slap his face, which made him wonder if that’s why his cheeks felt a bit too warm.

“Did you just slap me?”

“Um, no. You fainted, Mulder. The hail piece must have hit harder than we thought. You’ll need to get a scan at the hospital,” Scully promptly got her mischievous hands busy with the first aid kit she managed to produce out of somewhere.

“Did you meet Eleanor?” he made a move to get up but Scully held him down with a hand on his chest and started working on his cut.

“Who? I couldn’t even find Ms. Moore anywhere. Maybe there are some maintenance buildings nearby and she got stuck there waiting for the hailstorm to be over.”

Mulder looked around as best as he could with Scully’s hands latched to his temple. She smelled very good, and he made a note, but filed away the thoughts of burrowing into her jumper, beaconing him with its softness from between the lapels of her open jacket. The image of a blood-soaked woman with a spiky meat hammer was still a priority in his mind.

“The missing woman, one of the victims. She was just there, doing the thing, with a body, with the blood” he made a fist and hit the couch a few times. Scully recoiled a little. She was getting quite fed up and was thinking of sedating him so she could finish dressing his cut properly.

“Mulder, there’s no woman here. And I was gone only a couple of minutes, surely a woman passing by with a bloody corpse wouldn’t have had time for seasonal cleaning. And if you don’t let me finish the bandaging I might find myself in a similar situation as she.”

Mulder went quiet trying to make any sense of what happened. It couldn’t be real, could it? It felt very real though, just like Scully standing in front of him now. Scully had to be real, right? He carefully felt her forearm, which was solid, warm and tiny, he almost could get his fingers around it. She sighed, still frustrated with him but apparently reading his gesture as one of gratefulness. He was grateful though, that much was true. He also needed her to believe he’s just seen a ghost or there was a missing woman with a corpse around the house.

“Scully, I think we really need to check the house out. I think she might still be here. Or if it was a spirit it might contact me again here, if she died here.”

Scully huffed, but something inside her compelled her to stay and find out what was up with this place. She was worried about the house owner as well.

“We don’t have an order. There might be a civilian in danger though, so a search would be justified. We need to be quick though, as soon as the hail’s over I want you to get that brain of yours scanned.” Scully gingerly packed the first aid kit and put it on the table nearby having decided their luck so far wasn’t indicating they could relax.

“Stay seated for a few minutes and monitor your condition. Tell me if dizziness comes back. I want to grab something I’ve spotted.”

“You know, the Baba Yagas seemed to be known for cannibalistic tendencies in Slavic folklore. And the woman I’ve seen had a severed human hand next to her,” Mulder raised his voice as she retreated from the room.

She returned quickly with a gun in one hand and a thick leather-covered book tucked under the other.

“What's that?” Mulder inquired from his reclining position. He was really hoping for a tome on Slavic pagan ritual practices. Or a book of fairy tales at least.

“It’s a guestbook. We can look up if any of the victims ever stayed here when the hotel was functioning. Or maybe Ms. Moore was trying to reopen the business.”

“Well, that’s a very exciting investigative task, Scully. I’m gonna go look around other rooms. Maybe there’s a secret door or something.”

“You’re not going anywhere alone; I’m not risking you losing your consciousness and falling down the stairs or anything.”

“You want me all to yourself for my talents.”

Scully was hiding a smirk behind the pages when her eyes went wide and a gasp made her choke a bit on the dusty air.

“This is my mother’s name right here. And Melissa Scully following.”

“You’re kidding. How about your name?”

“No, nothing. I should call my mother, check if it’s a coincidence,” she fumbled with the layers and pockets of her giant jacket pulling out the phone, “of course. No reception.”

“Well we are rather high in the mountains. And civilization is quite a few miles away. Let’s see if there is a phone at the front desk.”

The phone wasn’t working. They went through the book again. Somebody appeared to be Scully’s mother and sister stayed at the hotel about thirty-five years ago. And the business itself probably went bankrupt in the early ’70s, since there were plenty of pages left in the book after the last registered guests. They couldn’t find any of mention of the missing women, but Scully spotted the name of her grandmother next to the name of Jodie Moore herself a few times in the book.

“Oh my god, Mulder. I just remembered my grandmother’s maiden name. I think it was Moore. Oh my god. I think Jodie Moore might be my relative.”

“What? We have to find her,” Mulder stood up too quickly but steadied himself on a counter. “This is huge. She has to have the answers.”

“Unless it all a coincidence. And we still can’t go out to look for her, it’s not safe,” they could still hear the hail whacking on the walls and windows.

“Is it even normal for a hailstorm to last this long?” Mulder went to peer out the window carefully. Sure enough, much smaller pieces were still scrapping away at the glass and accumulating on the frame. The ground was greyish white with occasional brown and orange specks. The bushes looked beaten down.

“Not really, they usually last about five-ten minutes. Fifteen maybe. But I suppose it’s not that exceptional either, a large warm air mass meets a much colder one and falls right down on our heads,” Scully sighed, thinking about how great a hike down a frozen slippery mountain might turn out, “At least it’s not cows or frogs. It should be over soon, but I guess we better get some rest and wait for it to melt somewhat.”

“I knew you’d never resist a chance to play house. I’m sure there is a honeymoon suite somewhere here,”

Scully rolled her eyes. “I will need to wake you every other hour to check for concussion. And we didn’t even make any vows.”

Mulder could vow he saw her blush a little.

***

“Haven’t we just been to this room?” Scully was yanking at the door handle exasperatedly. She saw a couch there they could fit on and they’d be saved from the embarrassment of making themselves comfortable in a stranger’s bedroom.

“Ms. Moore? Are you in there? We need to talk to you!” Mulder pounded on the frame even less politely.

“The hail or our visit might have triggered some kind of psychological episode. Or she’s asleep. Or maybe your bloody ghost is in there.”

“You know, for the first time in my life I don’t feel the need to tear down the door to meet it.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Mulder?” they proceeded down the corridor in search of a spare bedroom.

The next few doors were locked as well, including the room with the bathroom where Scully found the first aid kit. A turn led them to a long corridor poorly lit by a lone flicking wall light. Scully cleared her throat and went first, her hiking boots barely making any sound on the old worn carpet apart from unsettling squeaks of the floorboards. Hopefully they were solid enough not to give under them. Mulder noticed she was keeping her hand close to her weapon holster and pondered if she’d scold him if he took her other hand in his.

The next few doors seemed to be locked as well, it seemed this was the abandoned part of the hotel, closed off for many years. The frown on Scully’s face deepened as she felt as though the corridor seemed longer than it was before.

They went down the corridor threading carefully on the creaking floor and trying the doors along the way. Mulder tried to shake the feeling he was being watched, unsuccessfully. It was near impossible that some kind surveillance would be installed in this kind of place.

Something moved Mulder to stop and check behind their backs, and he caught a glimpse of a shadow disappearing around the corner.

“Scully, there is something here” he caught up to her, trying not to sound too alarmed. They pulled out their weapons and continued their move.

“You know, Mulder, it wasn’t funny the last time and it’s even less funny now.”

“I swear I’m not doing anything, Scully. What, are you scared?”

“I’m not scared,” her answer was followed by a muffled wet thump in the corridor ahead of them “God!”

Mulder let out a little squeak. Keeping their weapons trained on the unlit corner the went closer. Scully pulled out her flashlight and they saw flat a grey mass on the ground.

“It’s just plaster” Scully sighed, moving the light over the wall, where, surely, a piece of wet barely wallpapered wall was missing forming a grey hole in the wet area “Either a leaky pipe or the hail is starting to melt down.”

It smelled of wet chalk and mold there. Scully was starting to think they better turn back and wait out the weather downstairs when they heard a scuffle. They ran at the direction of the sound, turning another corner and going up the stairs.

“Ms. Moore? Is anybody in here? We’re federal agents, we’re armed!” Mulder shouted.

No one was there, just another hallway full of doors with a flicking light

They checked the doors to no avail and Mulder leaned against the last one and sighed, resting his head on the chopped navy blue paint. His headache was finally here, burning through his scull in obliterating waves. He felt Scully pressing a hand to his forehead and willed himself to open his eyes. She looked worried, a little line forming in between her eyebrows, eyes searching his face. She checked his eyes with a flashlight. He thought he should tell her about his headache but it looked like she already knew.

“We’re going back, Mulder. We can’t break down the doors since nobody seems to be in immediate danger, but we can get a warrant and come back with a search party. And we need to get you to a hospital and me on the phone with my mother.”

“It’s not that bad, I’ll just need to sleep it off,” Mulder trailed off and raised his hands up when he saw Scully’s expression go from sympathetic to enraged.

They went back the way they came but after the third turn, Scully stopped dead in her tracks.

“Shouldn’t we already have passed the staircase?”

They checked the corridor ahead of them but there weren’t any stairs there either. There also was no trace of the hole in the wall from where the plaster fell off, Mulder recalled. Thinking the layout of the building might not be annular but actually a figure 8 they retraced their steps back.

The halls were starting to feel narrow and suffocating, but that might have been the lack of ventilation in the place. They gradually sped up and when something slammed from behind them in the dark, they took off running, Mulder finally going to grab her hand.

Animal terror subsiding a minute later they stopped, breathing heavily and looking at each other with wide eyes. A light scrape came from ahead of them and, barely resisting taking off in an opposite direction, Mulder trained his gun ahead of him, signaling Scully to raise hers behind them in case something or someone was chasing them.

A dark mass separated itself from shadows, and, just as he went to take the safety off, barked at him.

Scully laughed breathily from behind him, propping her forehead into his shoulder.

He let out a long sigh.

“Is it a guard dog?” Scully was still gasping through words, “Weird it wasn’t barking before.”

The dog sat on the carpet and eyed them curiously. It was a massive black shepherd with kind of a red hue to its eyes.

“Maybe it wants my cereal bar,” Mulder thought. “Or a leg.”

While he was coming up with a way to not part with his provisions and limbs, Scully approached the dog carefully, apparently taking its open mouth and rolled out tongue as a sign of friendliness and not deadly hunger. In a minute she was giving it scratches all over while it writhed on the ground making excited dog noises.

“C’mon, Mulder, look how cute she is,” Scully said, rubbing the beast’s belly for all she was worth.

The dog whined and presented its right side, looking at both of them over the shoulder. Mulder noticed some drops of spit soaking the carpet.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he cleared his throat. “I hope she doesn’t mind if we get out of here.”

As if having heard him, the dog got up and barked at them. Then it turned to go down the hall, looking back at them after a few steps.

Scully gave him a look, shrugged, and followed.

After another minute of wandering the corridors, they came across a half open door, spilling a barely-there soft light down the hallway. The dog sat near it and barked once.

Fully expecting to find a big doghouse or, in Mulder’s case, another horror movie scene, they ventured in. It looked, however like an old but perfectly normal hotel room.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” Mulder went to check the dresser and the bed, finding nothing unusual, and no indication someone’s been using the room currently. He noted that the dust layer covering the furniture was barely there, which meant someone probably cleaned it in the last few days.

“Could it be the room in which the missing women were kept?” He mused. “Or, more likely the room kept tidy for a guest,” Scully retorted, emerging from the bathroom. “Nothing unusual there too.”

“Well, there’s about to be,” Mulder set off for the bathroom, happy to finally have the opportunity. Scully gave him an eye roll and went to look out at the hallway. The dog wasn’t there anymore.

Light threading through the drapes was catching the dust specks floating in the air. Scully went to open them and was met with a flash of lightning. The air went still for a moment and a thunder strike followed. She could see the front yard, the snowy mountain tops and the orange trees surrounding. It all looked quite gloomy for the giant dark grey clouds covering more and more of the sky. She felt her heart go cold as she caught a movement of the swing in the front yard. “Could be wind,” the thought came momentarily. The sudden creak behind her made her jump and hastily turn around, but it was just Mulder closing the bathroom door behind him.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

The skies opened and down went the pouring rain.

It cost all her resilience to coax Mulder into taking a nap, with him whining about the creepy dollhouse room all the way. He was out in a minute though. The room indeed looked properly 30’s as it probably was renovated the last time during that period, all brown and sandy colors with a four-poster dark wood bed, matching intricate designs of the vanity nearby, ornamental floors, drapes heavy and flowery.

There was a sitting area with a fireplace, where Scully settled herself. After a few unsuccessful attempts at lighting it she decided it’s for the best since being chilly is better than escaping a fire in the corridor labyrinth.

Hopefully they’ll be able to get back down without problems but for now she was just happy they had shelter in this weather. The thunder rolled over again, lightning illuminating her curled up figure. She burrowed deeper in the chair trying to find warmth and struggling to keep her eyes open. She needed to check on Mulder in an hour and then they needed to move out as soon as the weather cleared. She was able to fight the fatigue for only a few more minutes, slumber claiming her exhausted body.


	3. Chapter 3

Scully woke from slightest touches to her cheek. Mulder was nuzzling at her sleepily. “Did he carry me to the bed again? Or did I climb next to him to get warm?” She thought, confused. This was starting to get ridiculous. She felt like she was going to burst soon if she didnn’t let out her feelings for him soon.

Mulder’s eyes were searching her face and they both knew that this was it. Hearts fluttering and holding their breaths they touched each other’s lips carefully. All thoughts ceased and the feeling of warmth remained. It felt like the best thing in the world but surely so not enough; their tentative kisses grew in passion and soon they were exploring each other fully. Their teeth collided a bit and they both pulled back laughing, but reconnecting a moment after.

Mulder delved into the depths of her mouth, caressing her tongue and insides of her cheeks, sucking on her tongue, and barely grazing her lips with his teeth. It would be embarrassing how intense they were making out if they cared even one bit about that.

They were on their sides, with her grasping at his nape and holding herself up to meet him halfway while he squeezed her close to his chest with his hand around her back. Their supporting hands were getting tired and she rolled on her back pulling him on top of her, not giving him enough time to prop himself onto his elbows, resulting in him crushing her into the mattress deliciously. Their feet tangled and she felt him pressing into her thighs.

She barely noticed they weren’t wearing their jackets or shoes anymore. Mulder was peppering her forehead and eyelids with kisses gently as she planted her lips over his jugular and felt his strong pulse. He smelled so wonderful and tasted so much like himself. His fingers in her hair were lightly massaging her scalp making her eyes roll and moan against his neck. He smiled caught her mouth in a kiss again trying to swallow the sounds.

When it felt like she couldn’t take it any longer he lowered his kisses down her neck bunching up the hem of her sweater in his hands. She went to catch his own shirt and tug it off of him but he went just out of her reach kissing the sensitive skin of her belly, scratching it ever so slightly with his barely-there stubble, causing her to shiver and gasp. She felt him grin against her, took a hold of his hand and pressed it onto her breast under the sweater. They gasped simultaneously this time.

Mulder nuzzled up her body enjoying the feeling of her impossibly pliable flesh against his lips and burrowing under her bunched-up sweater in the process. She laughed at the slight tickling sensation and finally pulled off her sweater with some struggle.

She felt Mulder laughing against her as well and realized her hair was standing up clinging to fabrics all around with static electricity. She smoothed it down with an eye roll but realized that Mulder’s attention was already somewhere else.

He rubbed at her right cotton-clad nipple with one hand and enveloped her left breast with the other seemingly overwhelmed with possibilities. He tested their weight and springiness with a squeeze, then rubbed around her nipples a bit more roughly and looked at her as if asking for if it was okay to indulge himself more. She was content to let him play with her breasts however he liked since it sent almost unbearably delicious waves of pleasure throughout her body so far.

He vigorously circled his tongue around the nipple getting the thin material of her bra wet, then sucked it in and nipped lightly, eliciting a whimper from her. Scully could only gather enough thought to scratch approvingly through the hair on his nape and push his head barely noticeably back to her breast. He noticed though, of course, and went back to repeat his act until he felt her writhing under him. Not able to restrain himself any longer he pulled the cups of her bra down to exposed her breasts. The sight made him swallow hard and grind into her thigh once more.

Her nipples were already slightly moist from his attention standing up and ready to get more. He squeezed the little buds gently and then with a little more pressure watching them change hues subtly. He felt another pull at his head and took his cue to envelope a rosy nipple in his mouth. It felt so good in his mouth, supple and perfectly playable, better than anything he’d ever entertained his tongue muscles with. He nipped at it and felt Scully grind her hips against his leg, now able to feel the heat of her core against his leg even through the double layer of their jeans.

“Harder,” Scully gasped, eyebrows contracting in an unmistakable frustration of pleasure being just out of reach.

He changed the nipple, sucking energetically on it, and pinched the other one slightly rubbing it in circles. After a few more moments he intensely sucked it in while simultaneously biting down a little and squeezing and tugging the other one.

Scully’s hands smacked and clutched at the headboard and bedding while her hips were jerking arhythmically into his hipbone. Her mouth was open in one lingering gasping moan, back arched pushing herself towards him.

Mulder took in her flushed face quickly forming a shy smile, a heaving chest and only then realization dawned on him, “Scully just came dry humping me while I was playing with her breasts”. He gasped with rapture himself and went to kiss her lips again. He was gentle this time, gratefully taking in her huffs, caressing her forehead and tummy with his hands. His sweater, however, kept rubbing at her bare wet nipples and while too sensitive at first, she soon found herself seeking more friction.

Mulder, eager to see evidence of her pleasure, put a hand on her zipper, and, having got a nod of approval, got rid of Scully’s jeans promptly, revealing her milky legs and thoroughly wet cotton panties.

He was sure he was getting pre-cum on his boxers already but was too invested in exploring all of the suddenly available Scully-skin.

He trailed the pads of his fingers all over her legs feeling the tiny prickly hairs on her shins, soft pits under her knees, and even softer skin near to her panty-clad center. Scully felt him open her knees wide for him to caress the skin of her thighs. She thought of straddling him to turn the tables on him but found herself barely able to move probably due to the recent orgasm. He licked, nipped, and suckled on the skin of her thighs, leaving the faintest of love-marks and soon had her trembling with desire for him once again. He thought he might even be seeing a bit of wetness actually escaping through the panties so he brought his lips to the fabric to collect it.

The taste of her was magnificent even through the cotton. He inhaled as much as his lungs allowed him trying to commit the scent to his memory. He felt completely surrounded by her; the soft, warm essence of Scully penetrating his every sense, and he couldn’t get enough, not in a lifetime. He explored her folds with his tongue through cotton, beaconing low moans from her, but it soon wasn’t enough. He pulled the fabric aside to reveal her pink glistening lips framed by red wiry hair. The sight made his mouth water impossibly more. Appetizing like a ripe dripping peach it was impossible to resist. He pushed his tongue deep into her collecting the wetness, lapping at her all over, sucking at the little button at the top.

Her underwear was starting to get in the way and he had to leave his paradise for a minute to remove it. It presented him with a view of his thoroughly disheveled partner, blush creeping up her upper body, chest heaving, eyes wide and pupils almost black.

Scully suddenly realized she didn’t have a stitch of closing on while Mulder was wearing his full office attire. It was kind of weird but was an incredible turn on. And shouldn’t he be wearing bandages on his head? He grinned at her and delve back in between her legs, spreading her lips for him to his full view. She felt herself gushing more wetness at her exposed position and the feeling of warm breath on her cunt. He unexpectedly blew a gust of cool air at her, making her twitch to close her legs from him, only to find out she couldn’t do so. He smirked and gave her another long lick and it felt so good that it suddenly was too much. She needed to take control of the situation, couldn’t bear it any longer, but she couldn’t move.

She then realized she wasn’t in control of her body at all, she was watching him study her from behind the glass and the steal of a file cabinet. The version of her in the bed wasn’t in power to control where they were going together, to control anything happening to her. And he saw her just like another X-file to be solved, to be a challenge and entertainment to him, his own living mystery right there spread out for him to play with. She turned to run from the scene, door slamming behind her and leaving her alone in the damned narrow hallways.

***

Mulder planted his kisses anywhere he could reach, but there was an ever-growing uneasiness in his heart. Something wasn’t right, he couldn’t tell if Scully’s reactions were in any way sincere or even real. He tried to stop himself from psychoanalyzing her in this situation but soon found it was futile because he realized not only that she wasn’t real, but she wasn’t even there. Was she ever? Was it only a plot of his overactive imagination, endless frustration, and perverse objectification of his partner? Why would she ever give herself to him if all he could ever do was hurt her?

How could he ever expect her to truly forgive him, how could he bring himself to be with her prying open her wounds, instead of letting her go and letting her heal, pull free and prosper far away in a world where she could be so much more than his?

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamt of her. And it was just like him to fantasize about pleasuring her body and leaving out his own need as if somehow it will make her love him despite everything. Even in this act, he was trying to consume her, taking and taking, claiming as his, till she finally got enough and left. He didn’t remember how she disappeared so she must have left.

Mulder rolled himself onto his back clutching the blankets that still seemed to maintain some kind of ghost of Scully’s presence.

Was it a sick fantasy or a dream he couldn’t fathom, but he knew he was done lying to himself. His love for her has long grew past infatuations, lust, and obsessions, he needed her more than light and she was his light, his quest only having meaning if he got to be with her. It didn’t matter though, because she wasn’t on this earth to give his work or life validation and she was right to go, god knows it’s not the first time she tried to leave him.

He curled up in the cold corner no longer noticing his surroundings, or rather the fact that there weren’t any.

He could just stay here, not exactly well or comfortable but not unwell either. He felt nothingness enveloping him and wanted so much to let it happen, he almost let go of the hotel blankets, only to be perplexed he was still holding on to them. Such a weird thing to have in your hands when the only thing around you is void.

He clutched the fabric in his hands trying to remember where he got them and why it felt so important to not let go.

Then it hit him. He had to find her, had to help her escape even if it meant more struggle. She mattered when everything else didn’t and he suddenly remembered that he also mattered. She made him a whole person and a bigger person, that much was true, but by himself, he was worth of love and effort and it was her who made him believe it.

Her love for him as a friend, as a human as a soulmate he couldn’t doubt, it was a universal invariant no force could make him lose his faith in, and it was love that pushed him along the ever-lasting hallway, stubbornly lengthening and trying to choke him, for love he ripped through the luminal space, pushing the darkness away, crawling through the wet and viscous marsh to see his light again.

***

He came to flickering candle light, blinking rapidly as it blinded him momentarily. His whole body hurt. Thinking it was from lying in one position for too long, he tried to move, but immediately felt a bite of FBI issued cuffs cutting into his wrists.

“Ah, couldn’t wait till I got you onto the cutting table nice and neat.” He heard a familiar raspy voice. He turned his head to see Jodie Moore romping loudly within a toolbox. She was busy looking for something, apparently, but Mulder’s attention fled to the scary-looking chainsaw right next to her.

His first instinct was to scream for Scully, but he spotted her on a sofa not far from him. She wasn’t tied up and her eyes were open. She just sat there, however, motionless, staring into space.

“Scully! Scully, help me,” got him no reaction, “are you there? Talk to me!” Still, she just sat there still.

“She’s not here to serve you anymore. She knows she is here to stay; she just has to get used to it.”

“What do you mean, what have you done to her? Is she hypnotized? Did you drug her?”

“Oh, the tea should be wearing off soon. I feel the house now has her, so there’s no need for that no more.”

“What has her? What did you give to her? Scully!” He struggled to sit up in his awkward position. His cuffed hands were attached to a steel rod, probably an old pipe, his body stiff, intangible needles digging into his muscles. “Scully, look at me, dammit!”

She didn’t acknowledge him, but her face took a confused expression for a moment before relaxing back into an emotionless mask. He tried to shimmy covertly so he could slip his hand into his back pocket, risking collapsing his side again and injuring his hand in the process.

“Why are you doing this?” Mulder now recalled a weird burning in his chest after he tried the tea that he thought were just warming effects from herbs. “Why did you drug us?”

“Oh, I’m not doing anything much, really.” She stopped to take a sip from the cup. “Well, the tea is to help us all have more fun. You had fun, hadn’t you?” She winked at him, “And you were getting quite a bit fond of roaming too much so I had to put you down for a bit.” She patted a steel bar on the counter.

Mulder’s temple responded with a jolt of pain through his head. He winced and wiggled a bit more.

“The most important part, however, was for her to come here to us and you’ve handled that very well. The house will take care of everything else.”

“Who else is in here? Do you have the missing girls as well?” He finally adjusted his position enough to be able to reach into his back pocket for a pin from his lock picking kit. He needed to keep her talking.

“Aren’t you a curious young man. Everyone else wasn’t right for the house. It has been waiting for her a long time and now we finally have her. Thank goodness, I can finally rest and not worry, we will have a new hostess soon.” She finally produced a knife sharpener out of the box and started grinding it on an enormous butcher knife nonchalantly. Mulder’s blood went cold. “The others, don’t you worry about them, they weren’t right so I took care of them. And I’ll take care of you like a good hostess should. I’m still good for something even if I don’t have much time left.”

Mulder started pushing the thin rod into the lock careful to keep his movements smooth and his voice high. “Is she your family? Why do you do that to her? Why did it call her here?”

“Her spirit is connected to otherworldly things, higher things. She wouldn’t have visions otherwise, would she? Of course, she came, I knew she would.”

Mulder finally got the lock open. Jodie was engrossed in her knife sharpening and seemed to be none the wiser, a little smile dancing on her deformed mouth. He needed to make his move as soon as possible while she was distracted. He quickly scanned the room for their guns not finding them. It seemed his best chance was to quickly grab Scully and drag them both out of this godforsaken psychedelic hole.

He freed his hands in one quick move and sprinted to Scully across the room, his leg muscles almost giving out under sudden strain and chilling fear shaking his core, threatening to block his breathing. He took Scully by the shoulders and tried to pull her with him while screaming at her to go.

A sound of wheezing laughter angered and scared him even more, and he looked back at Jodie who wasn’t even hurrying to stop them.

“Don’t you get it? She is part of us now.”

At the same moment, Scully grabbed him abruptly, trapping him with one hand around his neck and the other clutching both of his behind him in an iron grip. He knew she was strong but this was something else, it looked like she had him subdued without any effort while he was gasping from struggle and pain in his joints. Her grip felt lifeless and face remained aloof, eyes still staring in the space over his shoulder.

“Well, it seems it’s going to be messy after all. Never mind that, a good hostess knows how to clean up after dinner, especially with such a good young strong helper. We’ll get you sorted in no time.” Jodie took the chainsaw from the counter, groaning with effort, and shuffled toward them, smiling.

***

She walked down the dark hallway with the same flickering light for what it felt like the hundredth time. It did not matter much because she didn’t know where and why she was going. Walking, however, made it easier for her to think less. She was still overwhelmed with feelings, trying and failing to concentrate, she simply didn’t know what she should do, or rather didn’t want to do anything.

The images from her memory seems to manifest right before her eyes, as she walked through them, knowing they weren’t real but still feeling the emotions wash over her in waves with the overwhelming strength of a fresh wound.

She saw Mulder with Diana again, and felt the pierce of betrayal sharp through her core, letting the anger and hurt flood her eyes with tears. She quickened her pace, trying to remind herself that her worth wasn’t lessened by his choices, even if they hurt. Why’d she even let him get this close, how did she not stop him from dismantling her walls brick by brick over the last seven years? Was she not hurt before, was any man as kind to her as she was to them? Were they ever just, fair? Did they ever choose her?

A scene of herself holding Daniel’s family picture in her hands, just a moment ago having held his hand. Picking the picture up from the floor where it escaped from his wallet as if on purpose, and him, not acknowledging anything, not showing even the slightest remorse over what they were doing, over what he was doing to her by curtly nodding and tucking the picture back away against his heart. He then proceeded to kiss her goodbye and scurry back to his car to not be late home for dinner. She felt the same surge of nausea just as she did back then, sweat appearing on her forehead, breathing getting labored. She walked on.

Work, college and school flashbacks were flying at her in a flurry, her father and mother’s disappointment, Bill’s enraged expression, his condescending smirk, Charlie packing his bags, Jack’s frown, daddy dead, her body taken and beaten coutless times, raped and robbed, Melissa dead, Emily dead. She was now in the hailstorm, icy pellets pounding over her head and back while she sat wheezing curled up on the ground, her skin bruising, her heart getting broken over and over again with the memories ever vivid and cruel.

Wouldn’t it be better if it all just went away? Wouldn’t it be nice to go back into the house? Leave it all here with the hail, everyone, they can never hurt her, can never leave, never die, the house will protect her. The hail will never get through the roof, the walls will not let them in if she accepts the place. She will belong. And the house will belong to her, forever calm quiet, and safe. She knew she had to accept it. She had to go into the house. The weather cleared and let walk inside.

The first room down the corridor was drowning in the light.

It was pristinely clean, not a speck of dust in sight, white wooden floors feeling soft and unexpectedly warm to the touch of her feet. She went past the plush bed to the window. The sun was up in the cloudless sky, the mountains shining with snowy tops, forest serene, deep and motionless. She didn’t know how much time she spent there. The air and time were still around here and she didn’t feel the need to eat or sleep. She wasn’t tired anymore and wasn’t anything. She supposed she would just stand there and eventually become a statue, this way she’d truly become a part of the house.

She imagined days and nights changing, leaves thinning out, the white of snow spread from the room onto the marge, the grass growing an icy shell, the swing in the yard freezing, the trees and bushes getting covered in a thick white blanket. She wondered if the waterfall deep in the forest would freeze over. She couldn’t remember why it was important to her whether it freezes or not. The snow couldn’t come sooner where she was concerned, with its blinding shine and unbound freedom. It’d match her soul pretty well, she thought.

There was a movement near her. A woman sat in a chair, clutching her hands.

“Do you belong here as well?” Scully asked, looking at her with barely any interest.

A woman clutched her fists as in pain or anger.

“Never. I didn’t want to die here. I don’t understand why are you here willingly.” The woman had a familiar face, but Scully couldn’t place it.

“I don’t think it matters. It’s calm here, so it’s better. Death or not death there is no pain inside the house. The hail can’t reach you.” Scully reached for the woman’s hand but it wasn’t tangible.

“Ah, I see why it did choose you. Do you have a lot to run from?” The woman asked bitterly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Scully said. “It’s not here anymore. We are safe.”

“But I never wanted to be here. I don’t want to be safe anymore, and I can’t go back. I am not free like you. I’m not the hostess. It has taken away my body, it killed me.”

“You aren’t happy here? I guess it will be my job to watch over you soon.” Scully went to apprise the domain she’ll have to take control over when time comes. The dead souls were numerous and suffering, some silently and some weeping endlessly.

She couldn’t do anything for them, she supposed. The place has taken their souls and bodies but also protected them. They were being ungrateful, she deemed. The women and men, seemingly unaware of their luck to be protected. They were not yet free of their memories, she understood since they didn’t give themselves freely.

Should she even choose to help them, to let them go and back into the unjust and painful existence, she doesn’t really know how. And the place probably needs them if it took them.

She looked around for the dog. It wasn’t real, she now knew that, as barely anything was real inside the place. Nonetheless, it could give her anything, limited only by her imagination like she was in a perpetual dream, one she could control to a degree but didn’t see the need in doing.

She felt something not quite familiar stirring in her chest. A young blonde woman was holding a broken empty frame in her hands. Another was sitting on the floor with her knees pressed into her chest and her back to the wall. She was banging on the back of her head rhythmically into the wall behind her. Scully knew their names know and knew she was looking for them long ago, but couldn’t bring herself to care now. Well, to be completely honest she was the tiniest bit annoyed with them. She knew she could get rid of all of them with a snap of her fingers. They wouldn’t really leave, simply because they couldn’t, but she wouldn’t see them this way and become calm again.

She knew she wasn’t like them because she didn’t want to leave. She closed her eyes and sank into slumber.

***

_She understands now, why she was so scared of this place. It wants her to stay. It was promising so much, almost anything she’d ever wanted, so much fun and buddies to play with. She met them though, and they didn’t seem all right, they all were unhappy. And the house showed her a lot of things. A lot of bad things about her Bill, about mommy and daddy. They were kind of true of course, but she still loves them and wants to go home with mommy. She wasn’t even that angry at Bill for calling her turd waffle anymore. She did blame the broken train set on him, and dad punished him for it, not listening to Bill’s wailing and calling Missy on her lies. He is probably still angry even though it happened a long time ago. Maybe she should say sorry when she sees him again. Dad might find out though and he would be even angrier with her for lying and pushing the blame onto her brother then breaking the train in the first place. She shivers and hunches her shoulders. Maybe staying here isn’t such a bad idea after all. Nobody can reach her here even if they come inside the house._

_Mom would miss her so much though. And Dad too. And probably Bill. She does want to forget the bad things. And nothing at all will happen to her if she stays. But then, she remembers, mommy promised to take them all to see the ocean in the summer._

_She sees it bright and clear, the shimmering ripples in the dark blue waters, her and Bill digging for treasure in the wet sand. Them both being afraid to swim because a cousin told them a scary mermaid story the night before. Then she sees her mum holding her tummy, herself finally getting a sister. She’d take some of her toys and they would fight, but they’d also put worms in Bill’s school bag a few years later together. He’ll try to fight them and she’d get a super ugly black eye, which she’d be wearing with pride for protecting her sister. Mom would cry, punish them, then they’d all cry any she’d by them ice cream. On her younger brother’s second birthday they’d try to send him into space on a rocket made of piled-up chairs. Mom would forbid to put the baby on top of an unsecure tower so Dana is going to end up flying off of it instead._

_When she goes to school it won’t be such a big day as it was for Bill and she is gonna cry quietly about it at night. She is going to make tones of friends there though and Dana and Charlie would be jealous but very excited to join them in wedding games in the yard. Dana would refuse to marry Charlie because he was younger than her and say she’d rather marry their dog since it was 8 years old._

_Missy’d always win at tag except when Billy played with them. She’d be the best actress in the drama club in the school. Her sister would inspire her so much throughout her life. Her brothers would love her unimaginably. She will be free and happy._

_She doesn’t need to stay inside._

***

Scully opened her eyes and felt her heart racing. Why did she see her sister’s memories? She assumed the house would protect her from pain. Maybe it was because Melissa overpowered its shell when she left? She knew her sister was so much stronger than people gave her credit for.

Why was Melissa showing this to her? Surely, she’d be glad that Dana was finally safe in this place. She wouldn’t be killed if she stayed in the house back then herself. Did Missy want her to leave as well? Would she wish her to go back to the world of injustice, suffering, pain, and death? Scully closed her eyes again and saw herself back in the reality. Her body was still, then there was Mulder, she was holding him, hurting him. She wondered if he deserved it. None of them did, really. No pain inflicted was equal to the pain of revenge, she always knew that. She was doing it, she figured because the place wanted her to.

Well, if it meant she got to stay here, it was probably fair. Yet, she couldn’t help thinking about Missy’s choice. Did her sister see her own troubles, misfortunes, fear, and pain a reasonable cost for the happy moments to come? Surely she didn’t. But somehow she still chose to leave.

Scully tried to imagine her future if she got out. She’s already seen how would it go if Mulder and she took the next step, hasn’t she? How much of it was true, she didn’t know though. Maybe she’d only seen it so she’d stay. Did Mulder see it? She needed to know.

How was she to know if they ever could be happy? But then, maybe they already were, she thought bitterly.

She thought of coming to the office early in the morning to find him, a couple of bagels and a casefile ready for her, the coffee pot steaming and sun barely peeking yet in the basement windows. The frantic packing to leave for the case on a two-hour notice, colored warmer by him rambling about werewolves in her hallway. Eating pizza on his couch and bantering over whether aliens would be actually into probing human bodies the way his triple X tape cover showed.

She realized that she wanted that back. Even without heated kisses and warm lazy mornings. But they’d come, she suddenly knew. The sunsets at the beach, digging through the sand with her nephews, her making amazing discoveries, her mother crying happily, Mulder and her doing incredible things, saving countless lives and smaller but no less incredible things for just the two of them together. Burrowing in quilts together next to the fireplace, reading books to each other till falling asleep right there, too comfortable and happy to move to the bed. Their son coloring aliens with grey crayons and Mulder putting them up on the fridge proudly. William bringing home his first boyfriend and crying in her embrace after his first heartbreak. Them all arguing over detention he’d got, going on holiday and getting food poisoning all together, her and Mulder getting married spontaneously and quietly. Her mother passing away, so many things untold. A dog, stolen from a crime scene, a patient smiling, knowing they get to come home.

She wanted it all. She needed to shake off the bonds and take control of her life again.

***

Mulder felt his whole body shake from the fear and strain trying to get away from Scully’s firm grip. Jodie Moore was trying to get the chainsaw working with suddenly impatient jerks and a frown on her face.

“This stupid thing!” She gave a nervous laugh and dumped it on the floor with a deafening racket. “Don’t fret, I’ll get my old tools in a second.” She scurried off to the counter.

The moment she got behind the counter Moore fixed her eyes on Scully over his shoulder. “Don’t you do that, girl! Don’t think about it!”

Mulder felt Scully’s grip on him loosen and disappear. He collapsed on his back and darted off as far as the room allowed from both women, gasping for breath. The women glared at each other pointedly.

“Stop it! You foolish, stupid girl! You need us even more than we need you!”

“You’re delusional. No one is free here, no one is safe.”

“You’d be safe! Like I was safe all my life! Your mother and sister were to foolish to see it! You’re the only one who can take my place, and you’re throwing it all away.”

The old woman took a step towards Mulder.

“Throwing away what? A life in shadows, haunted by the people you killed?

“Scully,” Mulder’s voice rasped through the air pointedly as he measured the distance between the crazy woman and the front door.

It felt like time both slowed down and quickened its pace as Scully moved towards the candle and the old woman changed direction from him, rushing towards her. The candle tipped over and the sea of flame spilled in a matter of seconds. Mulder felt like his body undid the springs, tension making his ankles ache as he ran to Scully, grabbed her hand, and dashed to the door, the house coming alive an agony around them.

The walls distorted with a shrilling cry, fire eating at them rapidly, the black smoke filling the space, swallowing the furniture and decorations, the floors and ceilings cracking and falling apart leaving holes everywhere. It seemed the door was getting farther away from them, in an attempt to bury them in the ruins, but Scully confidently lead him forward, and, sure enough, they were out, panting through their sleeves, still running to put some distance between them and the fire.

They stood there for what it seemed like two minutes or an hour, trying to catch their breaths, and watched the fire burn out as quickly as it started. Mulder thought they’d need to apprehend Jodie Moore once she’d evacuate from the building. His hopes were smashed with the roof collapsing

Scully’s heart felt ten times lighter, when with the black smoke rising she saw a few gusts of light, free and pure, escaping high into the air. Surely, those weren’t the poor souls, imprisoned there for years, she was probably still experiencing some kind of hallucination induced by the sick mistress of the house.

Scully tried to assess both of their conditions. Mulder didn’t have a gush on his head anymore.

“Are you hurt, Mulder?” She examined his head carefully. Then found the marks on his hands from handcuffs and cringed. He hissed a bit when she moved his arm as well.

“Well, my pride is hurt the most probably. Didn’t think you’d take me in a wrestling match,” when she tried to move his arm up and down, he winced and recoiled, “Well. I should get that looked at. Yeah, I guess you hurt me pretty badly.” He looked at her playfully but Scully was horrified. He caressed her cheek gently. “This wasn’t you Scully. Remember Modell? I think it was some kind of suggestion or maybe hypnosis but coupled with some heavy hallucinogens.

There was a rustling from behind them.

“Well, what on earth happened here?”

***

The deputy and his search party, who stumbled upon Mulder and Scully after noticing the smoke were able to call in a firefighters’ helicopter, and after the firemen contained the fire at the former hotel territory the helicopter took them to the nearest big hospital to get scans and tox screens. Mulder didn’t have any dislocations, only some bruises, marks, and minor ligament tears. Both of his arms were placed in shoulder bandages though, which made his life miserable for a couple of days until they removed one. That meant he got Scully to feed him a couple of times. He even persuaded her to share the cereal bar he was carrying around for the last couple of days. He nipped at her fingers playfully and generally seemed to try to get even more rise out of her than usual. His courage wilted, however, when it came to the bathroom and shower trips with medical personnel.

The lab results predictably showed traces of LSD in their blood, and the inspection of the burned house resulted in the recovery of considerable sealed preserves of the herbs infused with claviseps purpurea, or ergot, repeated appearance of which on her record Scully did not welcome. It did protect her from a deliberate arson charge, which she couldn’t have committed in her right mind, or so she kept telling herself.

There were also bodies recovered, or skeletons rather, all of which showed signs of butchering and cannibalistic consumption. Three of the bodies identified were of the missing women they came here to look for, and the rest were missing townies over the last few decades, and tourists, many unidentifiable.

The body of Jodie Moore wasn’t discovered, which was disconcerting.

One thing that alarmed her even more was her mother’s reaction at her calling and telling her where she was. Maggie evaded the questions about her distant or not-so-distant relatives, saying she cut off that branch of her mothers’ family for Christian reasons. She admitted though to visiting the place some thirty years ago, when it used to belong to her grandmother, with her sister, and told that nothing out of place happened there, and Melissa even seemed to grow quite attached to the place for a bit. She realised though, that people there did not live in the light of God, in spite of her age, according to Maggie. As far as Scully could figure out, for now, there was a good chance that Jodie Moore indeed might have been her great-aunt.

She knew now she would not live down Mulder’s teasing on her allegedly being a descendent of Baba Yaga. She threatened to consider the research of the benefits of cannibalism with empiric methods if he wouldn’t quit. He gladly offered her his least favorite leg and went over the pros of having a peg one once again, revisiting their conversation from a few years ago.

***

The evening she drove them from the airport she was feeling the kind of nausea people only got from excitement mixed with fear. They still had to finish their reports, Mulder more so, than her, considering he spent the last couple of days with his arms pretty mush immobilized. They both seemed to evade this topic in the hospital, but breaking apart the actual events from hallucinations was proving to be much more difficult than they’d anticipated because most the impossible things they’ve seen together were just that, impossible, and therefore didn’t take place, according to her, while Mulder argued that to experience the same hallucination, not for the first or second time in their lives was either a proof of some psychic bond they’ve shared, or it was not a hallucination at all and all the events indeed took place in some kind of distorted reality that was somehow influenced by Jodie Moore or an unknown entity.

“You underestimate the power of suggestion, Mulder. We’ve both seen how it works, you know that people will see and believe anything when they’re in the right state of mind.”

“So you’re telling me that Jodie Moore tucked us next to each other on a sofa and then proceeded to describe us doing the naked pretzel slash the hottest and creepiest night of my life to us?” he cleared his throat, trying to mask the nervous breaking in his voice.

Scully almost swerved into the sidewalk. She didn’t answer immediately. Her knuckles went white from clutching onto the steering wheel.

Mulder considered elaborating his experience but decided to keep the focus on his theory.

“Something was fucking with us, that much is for sure, but that couldn’t have been an isolated old lady, no matter how she might be related to you. To produce that degree of psychological torture, to take what a person might want the most and pervert it, requires having access to the deepest darkest corners of one’s mind,” he swallowed nervously, “If anything it seems almost preferable to think that we did it to ourselves, letting the anxieties to send us spiraling into self-pity and insecurity-induced breakdowns. Well, I had a breakdown. I don’t know. You weren’t there by then.” Mulder stopped rambling and took a deep breath.

Scully parked the car in his driveway and took another minute to compose herself before replying.

“I don’t know what it was. I’m not sure I want to know. It was a terrifying fucking experience and I wish it didn’t happen to us.” She saw Mulder’s face jerk as if from a hit before he turned to look away onto the still compound.

“No that’s not what I mean. I feel like I’m ready for us to try and take the next step. I was ready for some time. I just want it to be on our terms. I mean, if you are ready and want it at all because I was assuming, you were talking–”. She was starting to ramble now and no matter how cute and amusing he found it he had to kiss her, so he did.

She smiled into the kiss. They were ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All feedback is loved and cherished.
> 
> Thank you so so so much, @postmodernpromartheus for editing, you’re the best!
> 
> I’ve added some bits, all remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Prompt text: “Scully starts having dreams of an isolated hotel in the mountains and, once she confides in him, Mulder convinces her they should go check it out. When they arrive, they discover from the guest book that Maggie Scully checked in there for a weekend exactly 35 years ago, and that Maggie's mom did the same 35 years before that.”


End file.
